


Torture

by kullenite



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kullenite/pseuds/kullenite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has lingered and hoped from afar for so long, only to be confronted with the chance that his hopes may be true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torture

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble, nothing more. I might add more to it later, but this really just popped into my head. If there are any glaringly obvious errors feel free to let me know!

Her voice was like silk on his skin. Soft, and smooth, low in volume and slipping away like a secret. The way she moved around Skyhold left him breathless, and worried runners would always check on him when she happened to walk by. Her gait swift and long, thanks to her height; her legs were long and slender. Still muscular though, given that when she was going against recruits on the training grounds you could see the fibers of muscle almost bursting out of her leather trousers. Her hips swayed in just the right way, slow enough to give him a heart attack, but fast enough for him to just catch the end of them when she whisked by. Her shoulders, that was his ultimate weak spot. She had such strong, heavy shoulders, but when she would lift anything carefully it was almost as if her body didn’t match her movements. She would lift a flower as if it were the last life on earth, but on the other hand she could throw a demon halfway across the earth if she so pleased to. Her skin, littered with scars from her mercenary days and beyond, was unbelievably soft to the touch, and a wonder to look at. The dark blue and purple tones in her skin touching the light of the candle lit rooms in a way he had never before seen. She was undiluted torture, that lyrium couldn’t hold a flame to. 

And she was standing in his office, asking to speak to him, alone. 

“Cullen?” Her brow furrowed in worry. “Hello? Are you okay?”

Catching on to the fact that she needed a response, he sat up in his chair, bracing the arms with intensity he tried so deeply to hide. 

“Yes,” he coughed. “Inquisitor, I assure you I am fine. Only… caught off guard, I suppose.”

“Oh.” A brief wash of sadness colored her exquisite features. Her dark lips just hinting at a frown before the moment vanished. “I hope I’m not– I just– I don’t want to be too… forward.” She was stuttering and fiddling her nimble thumbs. 

“Of course not, Inquisitor.” He stood, gesturing towards the door to the battlements. “Right this way.”

While his voice might’ve sounded confident, his mind and heart had other stories to tell. He could barely hear himself over the sound of his drum-like beat echoing in his ears, and his thoughts were screaming. 

It was in this moment that he realized something, something important. The Inquisitor was a boisterous person. Very animated around her peers, and with the soldiers. He wondered for a second how he had never noticed this before, but she never expressed herself this way around him. Around him, the Inquisitor was a very different person, he thought. She danced around her words, shying away from the real point of most of their conversations. Stuttering and mumbling when she felt the subject to be… inappropriate. He had only really known this Inquisitor; the shy and bashful one. Not the loud and confident one. He tried so hard to keep himself from thinking the reason of this was what he hoped, but failed. 

“Cullen.” She started, looking at the ground. Confusion colored her face, unsure of where to go or what to say. “This… is going to be strange. I imagine. I can understand if you wish to keep our contact minimal. After this, I mean.” 

Nothing, he thought, would make him wish that. Torture as she was to him, he needed her. She had become a pillar for him to lean against in the storm, a friend in an unbelievable time and place. 

“I…” She took a deep breath. “I care for you. _Deeply_.” 

His heart just about stopped. He didn’t know what his face looked like right now, but he knew that it was red. She, the Inquisitor, the blasted Herald of Andraste, Qunari warrior, cared for him? She was… so many things. To so many people. He was just the Commander, a failed Templar, not even a noble. He was nothing. She was a blinding light of hope. 

Of course, he felt the same. Since they had brought her to Haven, he had become completely engulfed in his interest for her. The beautiful unknown calling out to him. 

“Cullen, please.” He noticed just then that a tear threatened escape from her suddenly fiery amber eyes. “Say something, at least.”

“I…” He started, unknowing where to even begin. “I am speechless, Inquisitor.”

She frowned, fully now. 

“Don’t take that the wrong way!” He blurted out. “I feel the same, my lady. I care for you, so very deeply. More than I care to admit at the moment, if its all the same to you. I have cared for you for so long that… it just seemed impossible. It wasn’t going to happen, it shouldn’t happen. _The Commander and The Inquisitor?_ You are a beacon, of hope and love, and I am the bringer of war, and discourse.” 

He rubbed his neck, looking out at the sky. She stepped towards him, only just slightly taller than him, but still seeming so small. Her hand, warm and crackling thanks to the mark, was placed on his cheek. She urged him to face her. 

“Cullen.” She had a determination in her eyes like he had never seen. “You are so much more than that. Especially to me. You are a father to those troops, you are a friend to me, you are a cause for comfort; being the barrier between the common folk and the danger of the world beyond Skyhold. You are so _much_ , and you need to know that.”

In that moment, no thoughts passed through him. He acted purely on instinct, almost unknown to him. His hands moved without his order, to rest on each side of her face. He pulled her down to him, crashing their lips together like fire. She quickly adjusted, hands moving to his sides, pulling him towards his office. Opening the door quickly and shutting it behind her, she pulled away for a moment to breathe. 

“By the way,” She was almost panting. “You should call me Nazul.” 

He threw his head back and laughed. He had been calling her “Inquisitor” this whole time, hadn’t he?

Not soon after his outburst, their lips were together again. Sweet torture against his soul. 


End file.
